Shattered Memories Ch1 - Sex Stories

Shattered Memories Ch1

... to follow her. We passed an ajar door and she pointed at it. "Bathroom. Make sure you knock, the lock's fucked." It was the first time I heard her swear. I was surprised by the casualness. We passed the next door. "Toilet. Lock works, don't worry. Still, knocking is more polite." We reached the end of the hallway, at which there was two doors on either side. She entered the right one, and I followed. Immediately I realised her room and, frankly, I was pretty impressed by what I saw. On the far end was a comfy looking queen bed, to the immediate right, a bookcase primarily filled with academic books (though I think I made out some Tolkien titles). On the left was a long desk, atop of which were three monitors. Below, a full ATX ASUS tower. To the left of the desk, windows and then her wardrobe, which was closed. "Nice setup," I replied, with a small smile on my face. "Thanks. Do you know anything about computers?" "... I'm studying IT" "Yeah, but I asked you if you knew anything about computers, not if you had a certificate in using excel." That got a laugh out of me. Man, I was liking Sarah more and more. "Haha, yes, I know a bit about computers. What's the res on the monitors?" "2k" "Jesus. How much did that cost?" "Not much. The boys were upgrading their lot to 4k so they sold theirs to me." "Nice. Hook me up." "Hook yourself up, they live literally downstairs, you know." "Excessive use of 'literally' will incite the rage of the reddit monkeys." "Only if the usage is ...

... incorrect. They do, literally, live downstairs," Sarah finished the sentence by poking her tongue at me. Amused, I gestured to the door. "Hold up," she muttered, turning around. She tugged the shaggy (it was snowy, remember?) coat off and grabbed a scarf, then turned around. My jaw hit the floor. Well, it would have, had I not noticed what she was doing. Prepared, as I was, my jaw still hit floor. Goddamn it, Oscar. She was wearing a tight fitting black V-neck and blue denim jeans. Sometimes, with women, it's hard to tell whether it's the bra doing the talking or if that's the natural figure. On her, I had no doubt. That was her figure. Perfect hourglass. (nope, exact dimensions will not be told. Sorry. Use your imagination) "What?" "You're hot." I stated. I stated it really, really blandly. Nonetheless, her cheeks tinged a slight pink. "Shush, perv," she muttered. Her voice seemed flustered. "Oi, can-o-hormones, do you wanna go see your room or what?" she raised her voice, this time, as her cheeks went from pink to rosey. "Oh, yeah. Sure... You're hot." This brought on a short bout of giggles. I snapped out of it. "Um... Yeah, sorry about that. Shall we?" I asked, motioning to the door. "No need to apologise. I'll take the compliment." We walked into my room together. It was, unsurprisingly, completely empty. Sarah turned to me, a quizzical smile gracing her face. "If you don't mind me asking, where is your stuff?" I glanced at my phone. 1132. "Half an hour away," I replied. "Oh ...